


maybe more

by bringitong



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Time, Fluff, How Do I Tag, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 07:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15658983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bringitong/pseuds/bringitong
Summary: seongwoo doesn't like poetry but,Maybe. Just maybe. There's a little bit of chance that Seongwoo started liking poetry since that time.





	maybe more

**Author's Note:**

> wow, my second oneshot, and my participation for onghwang week day 1 | bigbang. send love by kudos-ing and commenting, ily!
> 
> yell at me @bringit_ong on twt and cc

Seongwoo knew he's fucked up the first time he signs up in this Poetry Shit™.

  
  
_You're crazy, Seongwoo._

  
  
"Sir? We need you to sign these before getting your pass." The girl who's doing the registration tries to distract him from what seems like Seongwoo's daydream about himself fucking up in a mess, again. She slowly shoves the card to him.

  
  
_Oh, that._ "O-Okay." He frantically signs the paper, not even reading the terms and regulations of being a participant in this poem workshop.

  
  
Because he's not here to learn how to write a flowery speech with meter, rhyme, and rhyme schemes. He's here for  _something_  else.

  
  
_'Someone else'_ , rather.

  
  
"Where do I..." He looks at the chairless stadium, many of them are sitting on the floor. "Oh, nevermind that." He doesn't even let the girl speak once he's seen the point. Well, he can't look like a dumb shit who doesn't know how to follow instructions, and doesn't know how to make poems. Because he isn't like that.

  
  
Or maybe in the _'doesn't know how to make poems' part'_ , that was true. Because as much as he hates Daniel's annoying snore in the apartment, (they're cute, but disturbing) forming words used in poetry gives him the 'i felt like i'm not a korean' feeling. And that probably sucks for a Language Major.

  
  
He sits on the floor, listening to some girls who are murmuring words he didn't even know existest. Maybe they're trying to impress each other? Maybe not. He doesn't know.

  
  
"Good afternoon, my dear soldiers of the words. Welcome to the annual Poetry Festival!"  _Fucking cringed the soul out of me._  


  
Seongwoo nonchalantly clapped his hands, the opposite of what these weirdos are doing, clapping, whistling, and screaming like idiot.  _Do they really like poetry this much?_ Seongwoo asks himself inside his mind.

  
  
"Hey, sit down." He blinks for a second after hearing that soft and sweet voice from behind. And he didn't even realize everyone's staring at him as if he's done something sinful. And he didn't even realize Redacted™ was behind him all this time, taking his time, smiling at him.  _Fuck, I think that smile dug a hole on my skin._

  
  
"S-Sorry." Seongwoo immediately blushes, sitting down, hearing the crowd around him laugh, and chuckle or whisper. 

  
  
Including that _man_.

  
  
He must've stormed out of this room because of embarassment. But he didn't. He keeps on telling himself that he should ignore the laughs. He's here for that Language Major from 3-A.

  
  
_Fuck 'em. I'm here for him._

  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Handsome." The guyㅡ the speaker, or whateverㅡ whose name is Minki smiles at him. He looks young, though? Maybe he's the same age as Seongwoo. "Our goal is to write a three line poem in a minute. Any theme, with rhyme or without. Remember, we're here to showcase talents. Isn't a contest, so one..." He exaggeratedly counts. "Two..." 

  
  
"Three... write!"  
  


  


* * *

  


  
  
Seongwoo didn't even bother to make it as poetic as it looks like. But he didn't suck at it either, writing three lines in a minute.  


  
"Maybe I'm just good at everything." Seongwoo chuckles at himself, constantly looking at his back to check on the guy he's been pining over since 1st year in college.  
  


  


But it's kind of different now since it's been three years. And while writing the poem, Seongwoo thought of the time that guy held his hand so that he couldn't be lost in the crowd, on the first day of class.  


  


  


For him, it's not just a big fat crush anymore. He's totally whipped for him. That's it. No more questions, no more clarifications. 

  


  


It was Seongwoo's turn to read his poem aloud after a bunch of poets did theirs, and if Seongwoo's going to describe what he's feeling right now, he's absolutely sure he's confident.

  


  


Or overconfident.

  


  


He took a short glance at him, and as if he saw the stars on his eyes, he smiled. 

  


  


"I'm Ong Seongwoo, not Hong, not Gong, but Ong Seongwoo. 23 years old, Language Major, Class 3, I'm not telling you what's my section in case you stalk me because I'm one of a kind author." The crowd laughs at his cockiness. "I'm starting my poem."

  


  


"I hide through paintings and portraits

Only because I know you've never known the true colors

Or you never did feel the same."

  


  


There was silence. Of course, they fucking won't like it.

  


  


Even Seongwoo feels the cringe inside him, engulfing his body in a pit embarassment. 

  


  


Not before a series of applause was given by the crowd, including  _him_.

  


  


He bows at them, saying "Thank you, thank you." And he sees how everybody liked his poem (he calls it shit inside his mind, though).

  


  


"Next is Hwang Minhyun!" Minki encouraged them to clap, and they actually did. "We have so many handsome guys joining this workshop, huh?" Minki grins at him, and Seongwoo felt like he should kill a fellow today.

  
  
Minhyun shook his head, chuckling at him (his friend?), and Seongwoo forgot that he was jealous awhile ago. That smile that shines like a star. His eyes turning into little crescents.

  
  
Everyone stopped clapping as soon as they hear him fake a cough to gather everyone's attention. "I-I... I'm Hwang Minhyun, please take good care of me." He clears his throat and bows to try and conceal the obvious, while the crowd started cheering and clapping for him again.

  
  
He's staggering, nervous, knees shaking, lips almost chapped because he kept on licking his lips throughout the entire workshop, and Seongwoo thinks.  _He's a fucking uwu, fucking fuck.  
_

  
"I-I will start my poem." Another round of applause sounds a better idea for the crowd but for Seongwoo, Minhyun's nervousness radiates, and even he's five meters away from him, he just... could feel him shaking? He's sweating too.  


  
"I keep on staring at your bagsㅡ"

  
  
Everyone laughed, except for Seongwoo. "S-Sorry." He blushed at his own mistake, and Seongwoo finds it cute, of course. But he's a little bit worried for him.

  
  
Seongwoo tried to mouth motivational words but he can't be seen through the crowd.  _Fuck, he's nervous._

  
  
Minhyun took a deep breath before starting over again. 

  
  
"I keep on staring at the rags that is me  
Gentle, but hidden, and filthy  
But I still want him to feel."

  
  
Silence.  


  
Silence.  


  
Still, silence.

  
  
"Wow, that's amazing." Seongwoo slowly stood up, clapping his hands like a kid whose age is 4, while watching spongebob. "Come on, guys? Give him a clap!"  


  
There's still silence, but one by one, they started clapping their hands at Minhyun who's there, standing still as if he's glued there.   


  
Minki approached the little stage, and claps like a madman (or like Seongwoo) and took the microphone from Minhyun. "Wow, that's hell of a good poem, thank you, brother." Minki winks at him, and Minhyun glared back.  


  
"T-Thank you." Minhyun took a glance  at the audience, at Seongwoo, and finally, their eyes met.  


  
That smile.  


  
Minhyun grins and took the microphone from Minki again, hearing him whine while Minhyun forcefully took it from him. "Ong Seongwoo, can I treat you to dinner?"  


  
Maybe. Just maybe. There's a little bit of chance that Seongwoo started liking poetry since then.  


  
_bonus +_   
  
_"I knew it! I know you. You're that lost boy from freshmen yearㅡ"_   
  
_"Shut up, it wasn't me, okay?" Seongwoo tries to hide his blush from Minhyun with his coat. Since when dld they get touchy after the poetry fest? They doesn't, of course._   
  
_Minhyun's eyes turned into crescents once more before embracing Seongwoo as if he'd known him all his life._   
  
_Because he also loves Seongwoo. Maybe more than Seongwoo loves Mlnhyun._   
  


**Author's Note:**

> phew, that's a tough one uwu. talk to me @bringit_ong on twt and cc. thanks for the comments, and kudos!


End file.
